3 Crushes and a Wedding Ch. 05

I cleared my throat and entered the cabin. The only spot left was right in front of his wife. Her eyes were piercing and daring.

The lift doors closed behind me and I was physically and emotionally trapped. Talk about a metaphor. This whole ride was going to be a very bad incarnation of my feelings. I was on my way to something good, but I was still carrying some heavy baggage that was closing in on me.

Of course, in the moment, I didn't realize how poetically fitting the situation was; that part dawned on me a little later. Instead, right then, I only noticed how tight the lift was for five people.

As the seconds passed, I was gradually more aware of how close Scarlett stood and how disturbing and spell-bounding her gaze (or was it gayze?!) was. The look of want that Megan had given me a few minutes earlier flashed in my mind and shook some sense into me. Eyes on the ball, Zoe. I broke away from Scarlett's eyes only to land on Valentina, whose persistent but quirky smile made things even more confusing.

Then there were the men, completely oblivious to the entire dynamic playing out in front of them. Surely the new guy wasn't aware his wife and I had enjoyed two relatively, uh, close encounters the day before, and the other didn't know I'd kissed his wife two nights ago. I felt bad, I felt sick, I felt weird, I felt a little proud, I felt everything.

I also felt a finger stroll across my exposed thigh. Scarlett. Right here? With her husband standing right next to us? He couldn't see it, but she should've had some bashfulness, if not scrupulousness.

Her finger walked up my thigh to the hem of my shorts then snuck just a fraction of an inch underneath it, as if to point out its dream destination. She fixed my eyes. Her face appeared blank, but it was all an illusion. I knew how to read every twitch on the corner of her lips and every bat of her eyelashes. That didn't make the situation any easier, it just made me acutely aware of every minor detail.

I nearly jumped when she changed the angle a little and made her nail the point of contact with my skin. I nearly jumped again when another nail joined it and both of them went on a parade on my thigh, raising goosebumps and awakening my sleepy skin cells.

The tension rose around me, burning my cheeks and tingling my fingertips and tongue. Her eyes narrowed further and in their big pool of darkness, I saw lust and want eliminating any shred of common sense or decency she had. How much had I ached to see that fierce abandonment on her face? How much had I prayed for her to return my passion and desire?

She kept looking at me defiantly, daring me to do something about it. Was I supposed to push her hand away and risk her getting caught with her husband right there to witness it? Maybe that was the right thing to do by me and by Megan, but it wasn't right by her. One moment of lapsed judgement wasn't worth a scene. Neither was a simple nail. Or two.

So I stood there motionless with a fake smile on my face, as if nothing was happening, pretending those nails weren't affecting me, convincing myself I wasn't doing something about them for her benefit, and not mine. Were I to be honest with myself, I might've also admitted that I didn't want to stop her. My ego was having a field day with this situation. Her willing to touch me in front of her husband meant my appeal was bigger than the risk of getting caught. It meant she wasn't over me, couldn't be.

Did it matter whether or not I was over her? Not in that split second, no. What mattered was that I'd left such an impression and hole in her heart that her current life couldn't fill. What mattered was that she ached for me the way I'd ached for her a decade ago.

Vengeance was beautiful.

The lift's ding surprised us both. I glanced at the indicator. Ground floor, their destination. Her hand left my thigh. I backed out of the cabin and waited for them to disembark.

Scarlett went out first, flipping her head around to look for her husband, though she used the opportunity to sneak in one last glance my way. The two men followed, leaving Valentina behind.

She looked coolly at them and waved them away. "Go on without me. I left my sunscreen up in the room, I'll be right back."

They nodded and started walking away, though I did notice Scarlett's eyebrows rise at this peculiar turn of events.

I stood still, right outside of the lift, not knowing what to do. The spa was one floor underground and there didn't seem to be any nearby stairs, so I had to go back in. But while being with all of them was something, being alone with Valentina was entirely different. Did she make up that excuse on purpose to stay with me or had she really left her sunscreen behind? And for God's sake, who would believe that she used sunscreen?

For the second time in a few minutes, the lift doors started to close while I was still outside, so she waved her hand in front of the sensor and winked. "Come on in. I won't bite."

That comment didn't help. Neither did her extra husky tone.

I stepped back inside. With only her and me, the cabin seemed at least twice as spacious as before, but the situation promised to become at least twice as tense. Without the competition from the men's perfumes, hers brutally won the space war, entrenching every molecule of limited air with its overpoweringly feminine, rosy, and spicy aroma. I was trapped in a bubble of her.

I gained back my senses for a brief moment before my complete intoxication took over and smirked, "You use sunscreen?"

I gave her perpetually suntanned skin a once-over. It didn't seem like any protection went into the making of that perfect dark golden tone.

She shrugged. "Everyone knows SPF30 is the best way to get a gradual tan without getting burned."

"So that's your secret?" Another once-over accompanied my remark.

Not looking at her should be construed as a criminal offense. Even at her age, her body was crafted for pleasuring the senses, especially while covered with that semi-transparent yellow beach dress that contrasted beautifully against her tanned skin. Underneath it, the outline of her swimsuit left little to the imagination. It wasn't the same white bikini she'd wore to the beach party, but the assets it highlighted were practically identical. The memory of the outline of her nipple showing through that fabric seared my retinas.

"Among others," she winked.

The lift was coming to a stop at the spa's underground level. I started to move but was quickly pinned in place by her hand. She'd grabbed my wrist tightly. "Un minuto."

I don't know if it was a request or an order, but I found myself unable to move, prisoner of her large almond eyes. I could give her one minute, right? Nothing could happen in a minute, at least nothing dangerous or regrettable.

She let go of my hand and tapped the rooftop's button. The lift came back to life and started rising again. Twelve floors awaited us.

"Bear with me," she suddenly evaded my eyes, "this is a bit out of character. I'm used to being on the other side."

The other side of what?

"Before I say anything else, I want to make it absolutely clear that I never, ever, ever felt anything toward you before. You were a kid, clearly, but now..." Her eyes dropped and brushed my body — was that a gayze? — then she forced them up and whispered, "You kissed me, and I kissed you, and I can't stop thinking about it."

W-w-w-w-w-what?!

There's a universe in which I do meet Valentina again and get to playfully flirt with her as a grown-up, and maaaaaybe there's even a universe in which I get to kiss her once near the beach while the wind plays with her hair and she moans in my mouth. But in no way is there a universe in which she is impressed by that and, quote, 'can't stop thinking about me,' end quote.

I should've been paralyzed, physically and mentally, by her admission. Instead, it's as if I'd side-stepped into a fantasy land where ridiculously impossible things could happen, and where I could be whichever version of myself I wanted, without scruples or consequences. My playful side got immediately triggered and took the reins.

"Karma is a bitch," I smirked.

"Huh?"

"I spent several years unable to get you out of my mind. You can handle a couple of days," I said matter-of-factly.

"See? This is why," she gestured at me. "No one has talked to me like this before. No one has challenged me like you did yesterday. No one has written me such an explicit poetic seduction before. And then there was that kiss," her voice dropped an octave or two. "It was something, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." My mouth felt dry. The playful facade hadn't lasted long.

She reached out with her hand and tried to cup my face. I coiled back, she fake-pouted.

"I thought my confession would have more of an impact."

Oh the never-ending mind games. "Are you having gay thoughts, Val, or reveling in the attention? Or are you just enjoying the challenge?"

"Is this even a challenge?" She winked.

Fuck. "You tell me. I'm not the one throwing myself at you in an elevator." Oh boy, I was really growing in confidence with her. "So which one is it?"

The lift slowed down as it reached the rooftop. Saved by the ding, for sure. After the doors opened and closed, without any new guest getting in, she tapped the spa's button again and leaned against the far wall of the cabin.

"All of the above, I guess. Can't all of them be true?"

Her honesty mixed with a hint of uncertainty surprised me. She had never lacked confidence, but it seemed that I'd cracked the surface just enough to peer beneath it. I should've expected it, though, given my own brash attitude with her. Over the past couple of days, and in all of our interactions, I had created the perfect conditions for honesty and brazenness. This was the end result.

"I have a theoretical question for you," she smirked. Still confident on the surface, still allowing me to see a small fracture underneath that facade. "Suppose Sebastian, my husband, and I have an arrangement of sorts that allows us to enjoy a third party's company freely, and separately," she quickly clarified, "and suppose the third party whose brains I'm dying to fuck are the same brains that have been playfully sharing repartees with me all weekend," she winked, "would that be something you'd be interested in?"

At this point, I thought nothing would surprise me, but hearing those words out loud did rock the very foundations of my world. Valentina was propositioning me, not the other way around. She wanted me. No strings attached either, her open marriage being the perfect 'get out of jail' card.

I gulped. Images of a passionate night with her, kissing her skin, sucking her pointy nipples, lapping at her pussy, and feeling her tense and crumble beneath me flooded my brain. She had to know that we'd fight over who gets to be the top, that her little confession just now would give me all the ammunition I needed to win the battle at least once, and that she'd have to relinquish control then. And yet, she still made the move. That realization alone was a little earth-shattering and extremely flattering.

Then the image of Megan floated in front of my eyes. Smart, kind, sexy, funny, amazing, delicious, available Megan. That was the real deal, my brain screamed, this was a mirage. An extremely tempting mirage, for sure, but a mirage nonetheless.

"Any other day," I heard myself say with a low and dark tone. "Literally any other day prior to today."

"Oh..." Valentina's confident smirk died, only the fracture below the surface remained.

"It's just... I don't... I have..." I stammered before finding my voice, "I just started building something real and I'd like to give it a proper shot. I don't want to jeopardize or ruin it."

That should be a valid excuse for turning down a femme fatale that any human would bed in a second, shouldn't it? If only Megan knew what unthinkably massive sacrifices I was already making for her, I sneered internally.

"Did I mention I have lingerie?" Valentina winked and nonchalantly pushed up the yellow beach dress over her thigh with her index, revealing more of her shiny skin and hinting at other secret surprises.

Shit. My teenage self would kill me if she knew such an opportunity had risen and I was refusing it. Seriously. Valentina flirting with me and me saying no — I was saying no, wasn't I? — was so outside the realm of the possible that I had never envisioned the scenario nor prepared for it.

The lift stopped again at the spa's underground level. She didn't flinch as the doors opened and closed; she kept leaning against the wall with her hand having uncovered most of her thigh.

The doors started closing, with me surprisingly — or not — still inside. I reached out and hit the rooftop's button once more. Her eyebrow raised with amusement; I shrugged. Another ride wouldn't change a thing about our situation or my predicament, but it'd surely be great for my self-esteem and future fantasies.

I stared at her naked thigh and smiled. "No, you didn't mention lingerie, but thanks for the visual."

She smiled. "Playing hard to get, I see." I didn't think I was playing anything, but I was certainly enjoying her moves.

In a swift movement, she dropped back her beach dress and straightened her posture, over-adjusting just enough so that her butt pushed a bit further than the rest of her body, nailing down the booty posture you see in social media posts to a tee.

"Does your something real," she drew air quotes around those two words, "have an ass like this?" She winked, clearly starting to enjoy the tease more than the chase at this point.

"No, nothing real has an ass like that," I giggled.

She laughed too. "Touché."

"Seriously, this," I waved my hand in front of her, careful not to touch her, "would've been an instant 'yes' yesterday."

"Not today though? I have toys too, you know. Some of them clamp in a few strategic places I'm sure you'd love." Her smile widened and she bit her lower lip once.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Did she have to etch that visual in my brain? Of course she had to, she knew she could tease any scenario and I'd draw the corresponding mental image and never let it go.

The thought of her wearing a red lace bra instantly surfaced in my head, then holes appeared around her nipples, enough for the naughty nubs to push through in all their erect glory and extend even further under the pressure of two metallic clamps. I would indeed love that.

"You're making it very difficult to be a good girl," I sighed.

"Good, I like the bad side of you better."

As the lift stopped again at the rooftop, I realized we'd already made three trips without a single disturbance from other hotel guests. I only needed that miracle to continue for one final trip. I wouldn't last more or push my luck further.

I shook my head and asserted, "I can't." No more games and teasing; I couldn't handle that.

Noticing the change in my attitude, she adjusted her posture and sighed as she tapped the ground floor button. "I don't think I've ever been rejected before. Is this what it feels like?"

Nothing about that surprised me, though I did feel a little proud at being the first human capable of turning her down.

"Yeah."

"Well, it sucks."

"Beware, this is a supervillain origin story." My instinctive need to lighten the mood was back.

"Huh, I wonder what my weapon of mass-destruction would be," she stared in the distance, slowly recovering her own playful groove too.

"Big canons?" The words were out before I could think them through.

She laughed out loud and made one step forward, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You're good, Ellen, you're really good." I still found it jarring to hear my first name again, as if an invisible hand was reaching out from the cobwebs of my early adolescence to grab me and bring me back to that confused version of myself. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me... and my lingerie and toys and cannons."

"Don't forget the ass," I winked.

"I'm sure you won't," she winked back as the lift ground to a halt.

She brushed past me and got out. As the doors closed again, I let out the loud breath I didn't know I was holding. The air I inhaled still smelled of her. Had all of this really happened or was it as ethereal as the remnants of her intoxicating perfume?

Nothing about the past few minutes had been normal. From Scarlett's hand and nails to Valentina's blatant seduction, nothing had been predictable or manageable. Still, I was coming out unscathed, even if a little destabilized. A little part of me was proud that I'd held on in the face of their assaults and kept my eyes on the real prize, but the biggest part was still grappling with what all of this meant.